Since the disappearance of Tristan, Alpha Mitch never stopped searching. He was slowly coming to the conclusion that the Omega left again but it was hard to accept. Harder than not seeing it touching him.
He had left the pack house and kept driving for hours, stopping once in a while to ask around but despite the fruitlessness of his search he did not stop.
But today being the third day, he had been receiving a lot of calls that he ended up switching off the device and abandoning it somewhere in his car among countless bottles of liquor that were strewn in the back seat. He drank repeatedly like a fish, hoping to numb the confusion and pains but it wasn't working. His mind was as clear as a stream of water.
His white shirt he had worn for the mating ceremony was now rough and soiled marking the hours of distress he had spent searching.
His usually neat black jet hair was messy after running hand through it a lot of time.
